Bankai
by Zothar
Summary: "Ya always were selfish, brat. Probably goin' off on some adventure, eatin' all the candy yer eyes can find. Never even considered I'd be lonely without ya." WARNING: Major character death.


The clashing of blades and screams of agony had long ago ceased, leaving the valley in a quiet stillness. The breeze brushed along the fallen bodies of hollows and soul reapers, tussling the clothing and cooling the blood pooled on the ground. A faint ringing announced the only living being, back hunched over with the weight of endless sorrows.

The large man didn't move, hardly breathed, as though by stopping his breath he could join the small pink haired child before him. Her body was torn, mangled, destroyed so completely that it was hard for even the most seasoned soul reaper to look at. Her face, either by great mercy or great punishment, was left untouched, eyes closed in a peaceful and never ending slumber.

He wouldn't be able to point out the monster that had done this. More than likely it was scattered about the battlefield as ashes, dissolved along with his eyepatch and every other being in the battle. Kenpachi gave a hollow smile. He had never before lost control, not until now. Not even when her namesake had met a similar fate had he let himself become so enraged. But Yachiru, little, pink haired Yachiru, had been ripped before his eyes. Her face haunted him, her large eyes pleading him to save her, just as she died. Not much else was clear after that moment, until the light faded, and he was alone on the battlefield.

Hollows. Strong hollows, immensely strong. He had underestimated them, they all had. But Yamamoto wasn't the one paying for the poor judgment, nor Ichigo, nor any of the other captains. Those left alive, anyways. They probably could've defeated the hollows, all the captains would probably still be alive. But they weren't; instead, they were ripped to shreds by the same force as their enemies. At one point, Kenpachi might have cared. But no longer.

"Damnit, Chiru. Why'd ya have to go on an' get yerself killed?"

The cold body offered no answer, and Kenpachi looked away. "Ya always were selfish, brat. Probably goin' off on some adventure, eatin' all the candy yer eyes can find. Never even considered I'd be lonely without ya."

Thunder rolled across the sky, and Kenpachi hoped it didn't rain. Yachiru never liked the rain; it kept her from running around outside. She wouldn't be able to move out of it now.

"I should'a saved you. I should'a gone right over there an' ripped his goddamn arms off for even lookin' at ya." He took a deep breath, looking back at her face. "Ya didn't even do anything wrong. Stayed right where Yamamoto said you'd be safe. Bastard."

The rain began to fall in earnest, diluting the blood and washing away the scars of the battle. Kenpachi closed his eyes, fighting to hold in the emotion once again. With one hand, he reached out and smoothed the hair from Yachiru's face, cupping her cheek as he did so.

"I'm sorry, Chiru. I ain't sure if you'll forgive me, but I know I sure as hell won't forgive myself, fer as long as I live. I'm sorry."

He placed both of his hands on her body, reitsu forming and condensing until the heat ignited the small form. He couldn't bury her; the tombstone would never let him forget his pain. Not that he could anyways.

Zaraki Kenpachi lowered his head, breathing in deeply. The faint sounds of a child laughing tickled his ears, and a single tear ran down his scarred cheek.

"Goodbye, Yachiru."

* * *

Yamamoto stood before the remaining captains, stone faced and cold. None of them were fully recovered from the battle, and what they had seen there. They all stared at their leader, wondering what his next move would be.

"Zaraki Kenpachi cannot be allowed to get away with what he has done. In his anguish, he is more dangerous than the hollows we face. He must be brought down. That is an order."

The others nodded in agreement, save Ichigo. Never had he thought that his friend would cause such destruction to his own side.

The doors burst open behind the group, and the room became heavy with suppressed reitsu. "Ya sure that's a good idea, old man?" a throaty voice challenged. Kenpachi stepped through the archway, eyepatch off, as he stared down Yamamoto.

The rest of the captains drew their weapons, preparing themselves for the fight. Kenpachi didn't take notice of them; his eyes were set.

Yamamoto glared at Kenpachi. "You killed far too many this time, Zaraki. You cannot go unpunished."

"Yer stupid orders. They led to her death, ya know." Kenpachi growled. His smile, pure evil, had lost any joy that had come from the fight. "If you are so strong, come on and fight me, Yamamoto!"

The older man walked down towards Kenpachi, drawing his sword as he did so. "You will not live to regret this day, Zaraki."

Kenpachi's smile grew, and he stood, pointing his sword at the man.

"I've got one word fer you, Yamamoto," he said, as his sword began to glow. It gave of a pink sheen, as a skull-shaped reitsu formed behind him. Both grew until they were almost blinding. For a brief moment, every man in the room could swear he heard a child's high pitched laugther.

Zaraki Kenpachi smiled.

"Bankai."


End file.
